Cold Moon Dead (14 page)

Three messages waited for me when I entered the kitchen. Eric hadn’t arrived back from the deli, so I hit the button and listened to the messages while I set the coffee maker to perk. The first call was from the university about my class size and what room I would teach in. Mrs. Makepeace called to ask that we meet for dinner the next evening. I scribbled the phone number on a piece of paper and listened to the last call. Lanky Larry sounded better than the last time I had spoken with him. He asked that I call him back.

I dialed Larry’s number. He answered on the second ring and said he was feeling much better.

“Vin, I know you were upset when we last spoke. I’m sorry you got involved in that Jabroni thing, but I need a favor.”

My heart sank. I slid onto the nearest chair while I waited for him to ask. This favor would most likely put my life in danger, and cause me to have a falling out with my FBI tenant. Marcus would yell at me, Lola would flip out . . . and those things were nothing compared to what I’d have to endure from my father.

“Vin, are you still there?” Larry asked.

“What’s the favor?”

“The art exhibit is next weekend. Since I’m feeling so much better, I want to make sure I can attend. I need help to transport the artwork to the gallery and hang it properly. Will you give me a hand?”

This was so unexpected that I agreed right away to his request. There shouldn’t be any danger, yelling, or flipping-out involved—and for that I was grateful.

We agreed on a time and day to get the work to the gallery. I smiled when he said goodbye with excitement in his voice. I was still smiling when Eric came through the door with his backpack of homework.

“What’s so funny, Vinnie?” he asked.

“Nothing, just a sense of well-being, that’s all. By the way, Rita Makepeace called and wants us to join them for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” Eric looked uncertain.

A sense of worry gripped me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Come on, fess up.”

We settled at the kitchen counter. I waited for him to tell me what was on his mind. It didn’t take long for him to spit out his concern.

Eric shrugged a shoulder and said, “I guess you might have asked Mr. and Mrs. Makepeace if I could live with them, huh? Otherwise, why would they invite us over? Unless they want to tell me they’re sorry about me not having a place to live.”

“They did mention that you would be welcome in their home while your father is away. They were saddened to think you were left homeless.”

“I guess I should have talked to them when the whole thing happened, but I never thought my dad would go to jail. They probably didn’t know I didn’t have a place to live.”

“They would be very good to you, and help you as much as they could until your father gets back home. I don’t want to push you into anything you aren’t ready for, but maybe we should at least listen to what they have to say. What do you think?”

“I think we should go to dinner and talk to them.” He tipped his head a bit and asked, “You won’t mind if I move in with them, will you?”

“Not at all, I just want you to be comfortable. That’s what’s important.”

“If you’re sure, then. Besides, Aaron will be glad to have you back. I know I’ve interfered with your friendship with him.”

My mouth opened to refute his words when the phone rang. Eric chuckled and fled into the living room with his backpack. I heard the books hit the floor and the television go on as I answered the call.

“You know, Lavinie,” the old woman cackled, “you have become a pain in my ass. I should have shot you when I had the chance.”

“Listen, you old witch, I want my car back, and my Louie Vuitton handbag, too.”

“They are mine now. You won’t be getting them back. I want you to call off your friends. Especially this mob friend you have. His men are snooping into things they have no business messin’ in. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll call off your pack of hounds.”

The line went dead.

I sat there with the phone in my hand, staring at it as though it were from Mars. Life had been fine a week ago, now it had gone down the toilet. I just couldn’t catch a break.

A luscious meal, fit for a king, lay spread across the table. Four places were set. Silver gleamed, cloth napkins were arranged in flower-like displays, and crystal glasses sparkled beneath the overhead lighting. The Limoges dinnerware was gorgeous. I knew it must have cost a small fortune. The place settings were beautiful. I could just imagine how Mrs. Makepeace decorated for holiday meals.

While Rita Makepeace scurried about the table with a pitcher of ice water, Edwin shook Eric’s hand. Eric gazed around the room as he listened to Mr. Makepeace chatter. A sense of peace and comfort permeated the room. I couldn’t figure out what it was exactly, but the feelings slid over me like a mantle and brought a smile to my lips.

The four of us sat at the table ready to eat. Rita folded her hands, thanked God for the meal and a few other things, and then raised her head to smile at us all. I waited for Eric’s reaction, but he wasn’t appalled or nervous, he just nodded.

A smile stole over Eric’s face as Rita offered him the bowl of mashed potatoes. Talk broke out about food, cooking, and the job at the deli. Rita and Edwin listened as Eric explained the experience he was gaining from his job. Relaxed conversation flowed throughout the meal into dessert. I spoke little, but Eric, Rita, and Edwin seemed to connect.

I grinned and knew Eric Strom had found a good place to stay. He fit into the surroundings so well that Edwin took him out to the workshop to see his collection of carved decoy ducks. So engrossed in conversation, Eric never noticed the wink Rita gave me as they left the room.

“Do you think he’ll come here to live?” Rita asked with a sweet smile.

“It certainly looks that way. This will be good for him. He’s had a tough go of it since his mother died.”

“Such a young boy to have to deal with that.” She shook her head. “Do you know anything more about his father?”

“No. I can try to find out for you, though.”

“That would be a good thing. We want Eric to be happy here, but we also know his father will expect him to move back with him when the time comes. It would just be nice to know what Eric’s prospects are for the future.”

“I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

After we left the Makepeace residence, Eric and I drove back to the apartment. Excited about his future with Edwin and Rita, Eric rambled on and on about them, their home and how nice they were. They had made an impression on him, and he on them. Life could be good.

“When would you like to move to the Makepeaces’?” I asked.

“Mr. Makepeace said this weekend would be the best time, if that’s all right with you?”

“That’s fine. You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Well, they seem like real good folks, so yeah, I think this is the right thing to do. You don’t think my dad will be upset, do you?”

“No, I’m sure he’ll be glad that you are cared for. Have you heard from him?”

I had wondered if the two of them had been in touch.

“I got a letter today. We still have a mailbox at the Post Office. I write as often as I can, but with the job and school, it’s hard to write every day. He says he’s doing okay.

I nodded and kept my eyes on the road.

“Thanks for helping me, Vinnie.”

“No thanks necessary, Eric. I’m happy to. I just want you to know that there are good people who will assist you when there is a need. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Sure,” he said with a smile.

*     *     *

Within two days I had managed to acquire information on Eric’s father and related the news to Rita. Mr. Strom was a model prisoner. He had been in counseling since he started his term. Rita was relieved at the news. I had high hopes that Eric would have a good life with his father when the man was no longer incarcerated. Over the weekend, I helped Eric move into the Makepeace home. I left him standing at the door waving, a smile on his face. He’d promised to let me know if things didn’t work out well.

The house seemed empty after Eric moved out. No more rock and roll music, or
Family Guy
television programs. He hadn’t been gone two hours when the phone rang. I checked the caller ID before I lifted the phone and pressed the answer button. Marcus was on the line and his voice raised my spirits.

“Hey, beautiful. How are you?”

“Lonesome without you. When are you coming by?”

“It will be another day or so before I can get away. I’m on double shifts for the next two days. I miss you, though. What have you been up to?”

I sighed and then said, “The old hag called and threatened me the other day. She said Jabroni had his thugs snooping around in search of her and that the cops have been hot on her trail, too. What’s that all about, do you know?”

“It’s news to me. Why not ask Romeo? He works for the FBI. They’re all over Jabroni. As for the cops, you’ll have to call Freedom. She could answer your questions, I’m sure.”

“Good idea.”

“I have a question. Why would Jabroni have his men search for the hag?”

“I haven’t a clue,” I lied.

A
tsking
sound came over the phone.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been in touch with Jabroni?” He made another
tsking
sound. “Vinnie, tell me you didn’t do that.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“What the hell are you thinking?” His voice was on the rise.

“Look, I didn’t initiate the contact. Jabroni did. He wanted to know about the shooter and how that went down. I told him. End of story.”

“There must have been more to the conversation than that. He knows about your car and now his thugs are looking for it. You’ll owe him big time if he finds it for you. You realize that, right?”

“I will owe him nothing. I didn’t ask for any favors and would never do so.” I flipped my hair and paced the kitchen. “You don’t think I’m that stupid, I hope.”

“Stupid has nothing to do with this.” He sighed. “Do you ever learn?”

“What am I supposed to learn?”

“That dealing with people on the wrong side of the law isn’t healthy. This woman is a nut job. Jabroni is a cold-blooded crud, and so are the people that work for him.”

“I realize all that. It’s not my fault these people are mixed up in my life. I didn’t invite them in, you know. I simply got screwed for being a Good Samaritan.”

“Mmm.”

“Marcus, let’s not argue over this. I am not involved with Jabroni. As far as the old hag goes, she will be caught, sooner or later. I only hope it’s sooner since I might be able to get my car back.”

“If you say so. I won’t argue that point with you, but stay away from Jabroni. I mean it.”

“I will.” So I had my fingers crossed, so what? Who knew if I would end up in contact with Jabroni again?

After the call ended, I headed toward Providence and the downtown campus of Roger Williams University. It was located in the heart of the city. Since there wasn’t much traffic on the weekend, I could pick and choose where I wanted to park. The bank parking lot sat next to the main building. I parked the car, locked it, and sauntered toward the campus building.

A car pulled alongside the curb as I started up the short flight of steps toward the front door.

“Hey, Vin, what are doing down here?” a sexy voice called.

I turned to find Detective Porter Anderson staring at me from inside the unmarked vehicle—easily identified by those of us who know what they look like. The powers that be had no imagination when it came time to providing a low-key car that would fool criminals. Most of the cars were either an old Taurus or something else easily identifiable. It wouldn’t have taken much to put a detective in a car that the crooks didn’t know, but like I said, imagination was at a premium with the higher-ups.

“I’m checking out my new classroom. Come on in.” I smiled and crooked a finger at him.

He laughed, put the car in park, and joined me on the steps. We entered the building and I read the directory posted at the entrance. The classroom I’d been assigned was on the second floor.

Anderson and I headed for the stairwell and climbed to the second level. Before we entered the hallway, he asked if I’d seen Lola since she returned from her vacation.

A smile hovered on my lips, but I hid it before answering the question.

“She’s back at work. Why don’t you call and ask her out?” The smile won out and I grinned while his eyes flicked away from me.

“I just wondered,” he murmured.

“Sure you did.” I chuckled. “Call her, she would be glad to hear from you. Why haven’t you made an effort to contact her?”

“I’ve been busy, that’s why.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with her brother being on the force, would it?”

“No, definitely not.”

We had entered the corridor where classrooms sat to the left and right of us. I checked the numbers as we wandered through the quiet halls.

“Uh, huh. I could see where you might be put off by him. She doesn’t go out much since she works a lot, but also because her brother runs everyone through the network for priors or a rap sheet. It can be daunting if you have no backbone.”

“I have backbone.” The answer was quick, terse.

“I know.” I grinned. “I can’t imagine why you haven’t called her.”

“Where is this classroom you’ve been assigned?”

Great. Change the subject, chicken shit.

“Right here. Let’s take a look.” I opened the door and sensor lights flicked on.

The room was spacious with individual workstations where the students could do their projects. Pleased, I turned and caught Anderson staring at me. He’d taken a seat and had one foot propped on a chair.

“I hear that you and Tony Jabroni have become fast friends,” he said it as though he’d developed a bad taste in his mouth.

“Not friends, just unlikely acquaintances. And where did you hear that?”

“Oh, you know how things get around.” Porter ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “He’s a real bad dude, Vin. Don’t be caught up in his lifestyle. It tends to turn deadly.”